


Time to Relax

by Graymalkin



Category: No Fandom
Genre: Bed-Wetting, Desperation, Gen, Omorashi, Pee, Urination, Wetting, female desperation, female urination
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-26
Updated: 2014-11-26
Packaged: 2018-02-27 02:05:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2674793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Graymalkin/pseuds/Graymalkin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A descriptive vignette of a weary woman with a full bladder.  My most popular non-fanfic so far.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Time to Relax

Winter would never end. Neither would Lynette's chores. That was how it felt as she mechanically tossed shovelful after shovelful of snow over her shoulder. Her mind was growing numb from the monotony, just as her body was growing numb from the cold. The part of her brain that was still active did nothing besides imagining warmer places to be and better things to be doing. She didn't even notice her stocking cap was gone until her platinum blond hair started flying in her face.

Her boots clicked on the ice-encrusted cement four feet below the level of the snow as she turned in circles looking for the lost hat. Wind whipped down the corridor she'd created using only a shovel and countless hours of her life. The blast of frozen air made the young woman shiver. For a moment she felt even colder than the cold she'd grown used to. Her small, skinny body lost heat easily, and now her head was losing it even quicker. When she finally spotted the burgundy-colored wool cap blowing into street about fifty feet downwind, she just let it go. She was too physically and mentally exhausted to care. She trudged up the steps, grabbed another hat from the entry way, and returned to her labor.

In another few minutes, Lynette was able to toss the shovel aside and come indoors. But even with all the walks clear, Lynette's chores were far from over. She'd pushed back half a dozen things on today's to-do list just to shovel snow. Much of the snow was bound to blow back on top of the sidewalks and steps, and there was a 50% chance it would snow again tonight. It all seemed so futile. Being an independent woman responsible for a house had always been Lynette's dream, but right now it felt like a curse. 

Her mouth was parched. She'd been tasting her own sour, acidic saliva for some time now. The first thing she did indoors was pour herself a tall glass of water. She emptied the whole container before she knew it, so she filled it up to the brim again. She gulped half of that down, then started to get out of her suddenly very hot clothes. She hung up her coat, dropped her hat and gloves, and sat on a dining room chair, not even bothering to slip her feet out of her boots. She planned to rest a moment and maybe make some cocoa before getting to work on the dishes and laundry. That wasn't how it turned out.

Once her bottom was in that chair, it was a great feat to lift it back up. She didn't even get more water after she sipped the glass dry and continued to feel thirsty. But she had another need to attend to, and it soon became too serious to postpone any longer.

Her slender, aching legs carried her toward the bathroom. She got annoyed with her boots and kicked them off in two different rooms as she plodded to her destination. Her sore, nearly frostbitten fingers fumbled with her button and zipper until her blue jeans, heavy and wet with sweat and melted snow, fell to the floor. She stepped out of the sodden denim, pulled down her damp panties, took a seat on the toilet, and experienced a feeling almost as refreshing as hot cocoa.

She sighed happily as the room was filled with the sound of liquid rapidly hitting liquid. The loud pouring sound became muffled by the foam, diminished to a soft trickling sound, then a series of drops, then died away to nothing, and still Lynette sat there resting her mind and body. she stared at her legs. She was sure they'd lost some fat and gained some muscle since this arduous winter began. She found herself nearly drifting to sleep, which meant it was time to get up. She dabbed herself dry, flushed, pulled up her panties, but didn't bother with the pants. She paused at the mirror.

Sure enough, her body was looking better toned than it had a few months ago. Her thighs had definitely deflated some, and she could clearly see the bottom of her rib cage for the first time since high school. Some of the lost fat was in her breasts, but they were still safely within the C-cup range. She didn't exactly look like a vision of beauty right now. Her face was red. Her sweat-drenched hair was like a bunch of tentacles trying to cover up her green eyes. Her lips were healing from being badly chapped and cracking open, but still looked shapely and full. They smiled as Lynette admired her body. At least something good was coming out of all her labor.

After doing a halfhearted job of wiping up the melted snow she'd tracked in, Lynette concluded she wasn't ready to resume work. A shower made her feel much better. As she began to get dressed, she realized there just wasn't any work left in her tonight. Just putting on a clean pair of panties aggravated a half-dozen sore spots. She carelessly shoved the rest of her outfit back in the drawer, adjusted the thermostat, turned out all the lights, and burrowed under the covers of her bed.

This was her time to relax. She had nowhere to go in the morning, but would be weighed down with chores from the moment she got out of bed. As soon as she woke up, she'd start feeling guilty for not starting them. But right now, she could forget all that and just enjoy the feeling of a cozy bed. She even forgot that she ought to use the bathroom once more before going to sleep. Lying there in a warm cocoon of soft cloth, she drifted away.

Lynette woke up from stressful and confusing dreams to find herself in pain. Her eyelashes fluttered as she struggled to wake up completely and comprehend what was wrong. She didn't need to be anywhere. She wasn't late for anything. She hadn't forgotten to do anything. She was all right, her bed was all right, her room was all right, and everything was safe for the moment. The anxiety drained away as she became more and more conscious.

The pain bothering her was nothing more than a few ounces of water. Unfortunately, they were situated inside her bladder, which had limited ability to accommodate this accumulating liquid. Her brain was just as limited when it came to ignoring the problem. In this state of extreme relaxation, it could forget all the duties and problems that troubled Lynette while she was out of bed. It absolutely refused, nonetheless, to ignore the pleas of the cells that made up that stretched sphere of tissue that was sitting somewhere between her kidneys and the cotton fabric of her panties. The pain burned away at her, making her feel like she had a red-hot cannonball in between her legs. There were no two ways about it. She had to pee.

The topmost cover of Lynette's bed was halfway over her face like a scarf. Pulling it down reminded her of how far she'd turned the furnace down. The underheated air of her room suddenly hit her like a splash of ice water. She wished she'd had the sense to put on pyjamas, or at least a tee-shirt. If there was any part of her that lost heat quicker than her head, it was her breasts. Twice as bad as the sting of cold was the aching of her sore muscles as she forced her overworked arms to pull down the covers. She breathed heavily, almost like a sigh of protest.

Getting out of bed was nowhere on her list of chores, but it truly seemed like one. Travelling to a place where she could relieve herself of the inner pain was an even more troublesome chore. There wasn't even a toilet on this floor. Finishing the painting and tiling of the upstairs bathroom was part of her list of chores. She would have to walk down the hallway, down the stairs, down a longer uncarpeted hallway, and into a porcelain-tiled room. Each part of the journey would be colder than the last, culminating in a floor that felt like ice cubes in the morning and a seat that made her cringe just from remembering the sensation of her bottom touching it on a night like this.

Lynette thought for a moment before she pulled the covers up to her chin and did what she felt she deserved. She relaxed. She got her arms situated in the most comfortable way possible. She squirmed her whole body around until everything was as cozy as it could get, taking care to keep her legs spread apart. Then she relaxed as much as she could. It took a little effort to relax the muscles that had had so many years of training, but she finally reached her goal. When she felt warmer than her body heat could account for, and wetter than her sweat could account for, she knew it had worked. Her bladder was relaxing.

So much wetness in the seat of her cotton panties was an unfamiliar feeling that bothered her at first, but it didn't take her long to adjust. It felt as natural as natural could be. The pain was disappearing quickly, and the sensation of relief was like a drug entering her bloodstream. This was relaxing in every sense of the word. She only felt more comfortable as the warmth spread.

If she room weren't so quiet and she weren't so relaxed, she wouldn't have heard a sound. But she could easily make out a steady hissing buried beneath the layers of covers. She imagined a babbling brook deep within a cave. It was in the springtime, like all her daydreams. 

She thought of exploring the beautiful grottos that existed in places it seemed she'd never have the money or time to visit. Her imagination soon took her to a nest of grass where she relaxed in the sunlight while staring at a tranquil pond.

Lynette was still conscious enough to notice the pond between her thighs. She was releasing liquid faster than the mattress could absorb it, and it was pooling in what was now the hottest part of her bed. She envisioned how that cave would look like to a tiny viewer inside. Her legs, wet with sweat and urine, became as giant as trees or stalagmites in her imaginary swamp. She thought she could smell the humid ammonious air. Perhaps she really could. It was no small wet spot she'd created in real life, and what she was pumping out was the concentrated urine of a body that had worked hard for hours then slept soundly for hours while the kidneys worked. Her shapely lips curled into a slight smirk. Somewhere in the mind of this mature and responsible woman was a little girl who loved breaking a rule.

Once the long and pleasant outpouring came to an end, Lynette forced the remaining contents of her bladder out in a few quick spurts that sounded to her like a fly being unzipped. Then she did nothing, and she loved it.

The dampened bedclothes would be cold in the morning. There would be a bed to strip and lots of laundry to do. Things she'd paid hard-earned money for might be badly stained and need to be thrown away. But morning was a distant place. Right now, Lynette was in paradise.

There was no guilt or regret in her mind as she slipped away into pleasant, warm dreams.


End file.
